


Sovvan

by seekergeek



Series: Companion 'verse [20]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Pre-Slash, Valdemar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekergeek/pseuds/seekergeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that Elizabeth traditionally closed the Court at this time of year was the only nice thing about this holiday for John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sovvan

The heat of summer clung tenaciously through the first part of autumn, but a cold front finally rolled in just before Sovvan holiday eve and John shivered slightly as he walked across Companion's Field. It was a relief to be outside instead of stuck in Court for yet another evening with insipid and infuriating courtiers. The fact that Elizabeth traditionally closed the Court at this time of year was the only nice thing about this holiday for John.

 _Hello, John_ , Atlantis said as she came up to him, her colt Puddlejumper frisking beside her.

 _Hey, lady_ , John replied, shifting the bundle in his arms to one side so he could ruffle Puddlejumper's mane. "Hey, squirt, how ya doing? Keeping your mama busy?"

Puddlejumper gave an excited whinny and bobbed his head vigorously. John chuckled and said, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Atlantis snorted in amusement and then gently nudged John's shoulder. _I was thinking that we could spend the evening in the barn. The weatherwise among us say that it's going to get rather wet tonight._

John looked up at the gray clouds rolling low overhead. "Yeah, looks like it, doesn't it? Okay then, we'll go set up camp there." He draped the bundle in his hands over Atlantis' shoulders and then got up onto her back. He didn't normally ride her bare-back because of a broken tailbone from when he was young and stupid, but it was a short and leisurely ride that didn't make his old injury ache.

They found a comfortable corner in the Companions' barn, and John took off his cloak, pulled down his bundle and rolled the bedroll out on a nice big pile of dry hay next to the wall. Atlantis stood by and watched Puddlejumper scamper off to play with several other young Companions at the far end of the barn. Amusing as it was to watch, it troubled John that they'd had so many new Companions born this year. Historically, a sudden increase in Companions inevitably led within a few years to a corresponding decrease in older Companions and the Heralds bonded to them, usually due to war or other calamities to the kingdom.

Once his bedroll was laid out to his satisfaction, he settled on top of it and watched as Atlantis folded herself down so that she lay next to him, boxing him in against the wall. "Comfortable?" he asked, rolling on his side and holding his head up with one hand.

Atlantis turned her head to gaze at him. _Quite. It's warm and dry here, while outside will soon be neither,_ she replied. She then nosed him gently. _Are you sure you do not wish to spend tonight with other Heralds? They know about loss, too._

She asked him the same question every year. "I'm sure," John returned, draping an arm over her back. Outside the open barn door it began to drizzle rain.

It wasn't that he thought that the others didn't understand loss. He knew for a fact that Ronon and Teyla had definitely lost more than their fair share of people that they'd cared for over the years. But this night, the night when the veil was thinnest between this world and the afterworld, was when people gathered together to remember and speak of their dead and to bid goodbye to those who had passed on that year. Remembering John could do. Speaking, however, was too awkward and painful, and he could not force himself to say goodbye to any that he'd lost, not since he'd been forced to say it to his mother all those years ago. And that wasn't even factoring in the crushing guilt John carried over some of those deaths. No, on this night, he was much more comfortable with just Atlantis as company. She already knew all that he would say if he could have found the words to begin with and she never forced him to let go before he was ready to.

Atlantis sighed and then ruffled his hair with her nose. _I do love you, but I wish that you'd open up more to the others. You carry too much inside that should be talked out and dispensed with instead curdling up inside of you the way it does. I worry about you._

John felt his ears grow hot with shame. "I know. It's just...I can't."

 _It's not a crime to be awkward with words concerning matters close to the heart, dearling,_ she replied, her tone gentle. _Your words do not have to be perfect, but you must at least try._

"You're very insistent this year," he commented resentfully.

She gave him a baleful stare. _You do not play music. You avoid most of the other Heralds. Your sleep is interrupted by nightmares entirely too often. You spend too little time with those that would call you a friend. You spend too much time alone with nothing but your own thoughts. I tell you again - I am worried for you!_ She stretched her neck slightly and then shook her mane. _If you had invited Rodney to come out and be with us tonight, I would not have said anything. But you avoid even him, although you clearly managed to speak to him about Holland before. I care for you, sweeting, and this is not healthy, for your mind or your spirit. Is it any wonder that I then nag you?_

John sighed wearily. Atlantis did kind of have a point. He knew that the things Atlantis listed caused Teyla a great deal of worry as Queen's Own as well. It was part of her job description to provide counseling to troubled Heralds, to heal their heartaches and make them whole again. The problem was that John had been broken for so long that he didn't know if becoming whole again was even possible.

Atlantis must have been following his thoughts because she sighed, _Oh, John_ , within his mind and brushed her velvety nose against his temple. _That is your fear speaking, dearheart. I wish I could show you how much better your life could be, if only you let go of your shame and allowed others into your life. You could be so happy if only you let yourself be._

John swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. She was biased in his favor, as every Companion was towards their Chosen, but it still awed him that she thought him so worthy, instead of the fuck up he actually was. The way she said things made him want to believe her. It made him want to do better, to be that person that she wanted him to be.

The chime of hooves announced another Companion coming into the barn just as the drizzle outside opened up into a downpour. A man dressed in off duty clothing and bundled up in an oilcloth coat slid awkwardly off her back.

"Oh my gods, finally! I've been looking for you everywhere! What the seven hells are you doing in the barn on a holiday night? In the middle of a rainstorm, even! Although I suppose I _should_ be grateful that you aren't out in the middle of Companions' Field catching your death of cold right now." Rodney pulled back the hood of his oilcloth coat to properly glare at John as he unsaddled Cadman.

John sat up and cast an accusing look at Atlantis.

 _Do not look at me_ , she retorted. _He has come here of his own accord. It would behoove you to at least say hello to him, since he's worked so hard to find you tonight._

"Is...is that a bedroll?" Rodney asked incredulously, pointing at the offending item as Cadman sauntered off toward a knot of Companions standing by one of the fireplaces that warmed the barn. "You're planning to _sleep_ here tonight? What the hell is wrong with your perfectly adequate bed?"

John sighed. Trust Rodney to notice the one thing John didn't want him to. "Hello, Rodney."

Rodney shucked off his coat, threw it onto a nearby hook and plunked down next to John. "Seriously, what is wrong with you? It's freezing outside and you want to sleep in a _barn_ on some sneeze-inducing hay instead of someplace civilized like your own bedroom?"

John looked pointedly at the huge fireplaces. "Looks plenty warm in here to me." John's sense of honesty then kicked in and he added reluctantly, "Besides, Atlantis won't fit through the door of my quarters."

Rodney blinked at that, then looked at Atlantis for the first time. "Oh. Um, hi there. Hallowed Sovvan and all that."

Atlantis stretched her neck to brush her nose against Rodney's cheek. She must have said something to him as well, because he pinked up and mumbled, "Thank you," to her.

"Why were you looking for me, anyway?" asked John. "I thought you'd spend the holiday with your friends at the Compass Rose."

"I was there, but it gets boring after Zelenka drinks himself under the table and he started early this year." Rodney looked away uncomfortably. "I only went to make sure that he made it to his bed and that he didn't fall asleep in a position where he's likely suffocate on his own vomit in his sleep. I...I think he went through some bad things back in his old country and tonight tends to bring them back up."

John felt a certain affinity toward Rodney's scholar friend. He'd spent a few Sovvans getting drunk off his ass in an attempt to forget, too. "It was good of you to do that for him, buddy. Although he probably won't appreciate it until after the hangover wears off."

"I only do it because his brain is not entirely worthless and it's convenient to run ideas past him every once in a while," Rodney sniffed. He then slapped his knees briskly and got up with a grunt to walk over and pull something out of his saddlebag. "Anyway, since I'm done at the Compass Rose, I figured that I'd spend the rest of the evening with you." He came back with a bottle filled with an amber liquid. "Mind you, that was when I thought that we'd be in your room at the chess board and not in a _barn_ , so I didn't bring any glasses." He extended the bottle to John, his face guarded.

John blinked, staring at the bottle. "You brought me distilled spirits?"

Rodney grimaced. "I remember how hard it was for you to talk about the nightmare you had about your friend uh, Holding? Hollard?"

"Holland," John corrected automatically.

"Yeah, him. I figured it couldn't hurt for you to have something like this for tonight if you wanted to speak about him or anyone else with someone. With me. If you wanted to." Rodney shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Or not. I could just keep you company while you get shit-faced, if you prefer. I've got some experience making sure that you'll go to sleep with your face hanging off the bed and that there's a bucket to catch the inevitable wake-up vomit. Although this stupid bedroll thing you're doing is going to require some re-engineering of my usual set up, if it comes to that."

 _If you refuse his offer of company, so help me, I will be very cross with you,_ Atlantis said sternly. _It is a compassionate offer, genuinely given. There is no pity for you here from either of us._

Chastened, John swallowed his refusal and took the bottle from Rodney's hand. A relieved look spread over Rodney's face and he plopped down next to John, their thighs touching. John worked the cork out of the bottle and took a sip. The liquid burned its way down his throat, leaving warmth behind, and John could tell from the taste that it was a good quality spirit that had been well aged in an oak cask. "This is pretty good stuff," John said after clearing his throat.

"It better be. I paid the tavern owner a hideous amount for it," Rodney replied as he took the bottle from John, fussily wiped the mouth of the bottle with the corner of his tunic and took a drink. He coughed once and handed it back.

John took another sip and asked awkwardly, "Do you have anybody you want to remember tonight?"

"Not really," Rodney shrugged. "My parents have been dead for a while, and we didn't really like each other all that much when they were still around." He then gave an amused snort. "And despite her best efforts, Jeannie still hasn't managed to drive me to murder her yet."

John waited for the question to be returned, but Rodney rolled his eyes at him and gestured impatiently at John to lift the bottle toward his lips, "Oh, don't give me that look. You're nowhere near drunk enough to talk! Come on, drink up!"

John sighed in acknowledgment of that fact, and obediently took a couple large gulps of the stuff before passing it back to Rodney. He listened to the rain drive down on the barn roof while Rodney drank. "Holland was in the King's Guard," he found himself saying.

Rodney lowered the bottle and nodded gravely. "I remember you telling me that. And that he died right before the king did." He handed the bottle over to John. "And that you were there, too."

John took it from him and downed a couple of large swallows. Atlantis shifted and he felt her nose briefly on his cheek, soft, like a kiss. He set down the bottle. "Yeah, I was there, too."

"I guess you were there doing Herald-y things for the king when it all went to shit five years ago, then," Rodney said, picking the bottle up and staring at it.

"No," John rasped, looking away. "I wasn't a Herald back then."

"You weren't?" Rodney said, and John could tell without looking that Rodney's face was a study in astonishment.

The memories of that night pressed in on him, dark and painful. "Nope."

"Oh." There was a wealth of sudden understanding in Rodney's tone, and John turned back to see Rodney staring at him, wide-eyed. "Atlantis Chose you after the king died?"

John pulled the bottle from him and took another long drink. He wiped his mouth before answering shakily, "Yeah. That evening." Somehow she'd managed to get through the hordes of Wraith pouring over the border from the Pelagirs and found him. Had carried him away from the abattoir that the diplomatic mission had become to warn the army of the invasion. Had turned his life upside down and propelled him into the role of Heir Presumptive. He still wasn't sure if he should love her or hate her for that.

The look Rodney gave him was deeply sympathetic. "So, you've only been a Herald for a few years."

John nodded again and took several more hefty swallows, hoping to ease the internal shakiness that he felt. He had no idea why he'd started this conversation. It really sucked. He hated Sovvan night.

Atlantis laid her head on his shoulder and blew gently. _Tell him more about Holland, dearheart. This_ is _the night to remember your beloved dead._

Beloved. John's heart twinged at that word. "Holland..." He paused and swallowed painfully around the sudden lump in his throat. "He was my...my best friend. He...when my family and I had a, a disagreement...he was there for me."

John was sure Rodney was being eaten alive with curiosity from the look on his face, but it seemed that Rodney was determined to be noble tonight because the only thing he said was, "You two were pretty close, huh?"

John dropped his gaze to look at the bottle he held in his lap. The level of liquid inside had gone down a shocking amount in a short period of time. "Yeah." He wet his lips and said hoarsely, "What happened when the king's guards were killed...it was bad. I...I saw it happen. They were overwhelmed, all except Holland. He was with me. Nobody was expecting to be attacked. We tried to get the king. Then...then Holland was taken down. He...his last words were...he told me to protect the king."

John startled as Rodney slipped an arm around his shoulders and said, "It wasn't your fault."

"The invasion wasn't, yeah," John replied shakily. He lifted the bottle and took a large swallow then another and another before finally lowering it again. His head started to swim, letting him know that he was drinking way too fast, but he welcomed the blurriness that the drink brought. "I let him down, though, Rodney," he said quietly. "He wanted me to protect the king and I was too late. They already had him. They had him, and he was on his knees and she was sucking everything out of him and..." John stopped abruptly and took another long pull on the bottle.

"So, a Wraith killed King Sumner," Rodney stated. "I didn't know that. Then again, I don't pay much attention to politics. Most of it is so much stupidity that it makes my brain want to bleed out of my ears."

"She didn't," John replied, the words slurring slightly. He really was drinking this stuff much too quickly. "I did."

Rodney's grip tightened on his shoulders and he looked at John, shocked. "What?"

"I killed him," John repeated miserably. "I was hiding behind a column but he saw me and he Mindspoke to me and ordered me to kill him. I didn't want to. But he said he was dying anyway and he couldn't withhold information from her for very much longer so..." He dropped his head and waited for Rodney to leave, disgusted as so many others had been.

Rodney pulled John roughly to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him instead. "You idiot. You think I'm going to hate you for doing something that the king _ordered_ you to do? If you were a wanton murderer, Atlantis would have never Chosen you, even I know that."

John sat there, clutching Rodney's shirt, breathing heavily, shocked at his response. Shocked and so very, very grateful.

"It was really bad, wasn't it? Losing Holland, being ordered by the king to do...that," Rodney said softly. "And then suddenly going from being, um, whatever you were before being Chosen to being a Herald. All in one day. That's why you have nightmares, isn't it?"

John shuddered. "Yeah," he said shakily. He had not intended to tell Rodney any of this, ever, but the relief he felt was so intense that he almost wanted to cry. Shit, he was drunk. "I don't think I should drink any more," he slurred.

Rodney moved one hand to take the bottle away from him and gave it an appraising look. "You're a lightweight compared to Radek, but I think I agree." He set the bottle down and corked it one-handed. He then wrapped his arm back around John and patted him on the back. "Tell me if you start feeling sick, okay? I hate getting barfed on."

That startled a faint laugh out of John. "I promise." He heard the chime of hooves and the noises of a horse settling down to the ground close by. He wondered if it was Cadman.

 _Yes, it is,_ Atlantis replied, whiffing his hair gently. _She wishes you a blessed Sovvan and assures you that Rodney is quite honored that you confided in him. She says that he will complain to the high heavens that you got completely smashed and sang 'My Lady's Eyes' off-key for hours if anyone asks what the two of you did tonight._

 _Well, that'd be half right at least,_ John replied woozily, relaxing more into Rodney's solid, warm bulk. _I am pretty drunk. But I'd never sing 'My Lady's Eyes'. I hate that song._

 _I know you do, dearheart,_ Atlantis replied, sounding distinctly amused. _All good musicians do._

"I'm gonna have the wors' hangover in the mornin'," John commented into Rodney's chest. "Blacksmi' in my head 'n everthin'." His stomach gave a queasy roll. "An' I think I hafta throw up now."

After Rodney dragged him to the doorway to barf outside, made him rinse his mouth, force fed him water, a meat pasty from the Compass Rose that he had in his saddlebag and some powdered willow bark on the theory that it would help the inevitable headache in the morning, John realized that the pain of that catastrophic night he'd been carrying around for so long had eased.

"Rodney?" he said as Rodney settled John into his bedroll with fussy precision. "I'm glad you foun' me."

Rodney quirked a lopsided smile at him as he tucked John in. "Yes, well, next year don't make this so hard, hmm?"

"Alrigh'," John agreed sleepily. Rodney moved to stand up and John clumsily reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Stay with me? Please? I don' wanna be alone anymore."

Rodney's smile altered into an odd, soft expression, and his eyes searched John's face for a long time. "Sure, John. I'll stay with you," he finally replied and sat down next to John, his thigh brushing the top of John's head.

"Than' you," John mumbled. A warm, heavy hand settled on his shoulder and John hummed in contentment, his mind drifting off into sleep.

John walked through the palace grounds toward the Guard barracks, gittern casually slung across his back. Holland, resplendent in his Court Blues, was leaning against the barracks door with his arms crossed, giving John an amused look. "Finally. I swear, John, nobody holds onto shit like you do."

"Hey!" John replied, feeling kind of offended. "I seem to remember you holding onto a few things, too."

Holland rolled his eyes at John. "Those were grudges, you idiot, not soul-destroying guilt. The people that I was mad at _earned_ it."

John crossed his arms defensively. "I let you down, Holland. I wasn't able to save the king."

"Oh, for all the gods' sakes!" Holland exclaimed and he walked up to John and put both hands on his shoulders and gave John a slight shake. " _Nobody_ could have saved Sumner! You saw what she'd done to him. Sumner knew it, too. That's why he ordered you to kill him. It was the mercy cut, John, and it was the best thing you could have done for him at that point. He would have stayed here and told you himself, but he needed to go do his next thing." He shook John again and said affectionately, "You soppy idiot, you didn't let me down, honest." He kissed John softly on the lips and murmured, "You never let me down."

John let his forehead come to rest against Holland's. "I miss you."

"I figured," Holland replied quietly. "I've been hanging around for a long time waiting until you were finally ready to hear me." He squeezed John's shoulders gently. "Death isn't the end, John. Someday, in another life, we'll meet again. Maybe as family, maybe as friends, maybe as lovers again, who knows? But don't be stupid and miss the special thing that you have now."

John looked at him blankly. "What thing?"

Holland burst into laughter. "Wow, John, I thought that this time at least you'd see it coming!"

"See what coming?" John asked, getting annoyed.

"Oh, no, I'm not going to ruin the surprise for you," Holland replied mirthfully. "It'll be much funnier when you do finally figure it out."

John pulled away and crossed his arms, grumpy at being laughed at. "Asshole."

Holland smiled at him cheerily. "Yeah, I kind of am. You always liked that about me."

John pulled a wry face, acknowledging that truth.

"Anyway," Holland then said, clapping his hands together in a gesture that reminded John of Rodney. "I'm going now. I've got places to go, things to do. Take care, John. And remember the good stuff we had instead of that last bit, okay? I'll be offended otherwise, because seriously, I look terrible covered in blood."

Despite the melancholy he still felt, John had to smile at that. "Still vain as a peacock, I see."

Holland flashed him a grin as he and their surroundings dissolved into mist. "And stop being a melodramatic sop and start playing your gittern again! I swear the damned thing is pouting because of your neglect."

That brought a chuckle out of John. Holland had always made hilarious statements about Man in Black's supposed 'personality'. "Man in Black would _never_ pout, Holland. He's too calm and collected to do that."

The sound of Holland's laughter echoed through the mists. "You wish!"

John laughed at the rejoinder and then quietly said, still smiling, "See you later, Holland."


End file.
